


Unwanted Emotion

by MiroMoka_Chan



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiroMoka_Chan/pseuds/MiroMoka_Chan
Summary: It had been years since the events of Africa and two after Chris had returned home from China.He found that he was not alone when he should be only one in his home and Claire was not visiting. An old friend came to pay him an unexpected visit.
Relationships: Chris Redfield/Albert Wesker
Comments: 3
Kudos: 60





	Unwanted Emotion

Lids snapped open, revealing the muddy, dark blue orbs hidden beneath them, as a being groaned a bit from being forced to awaken from its slumber. The large form slowly rolled onto its right side, rustled the navy blue comforter and white bed sheets that partially covered it. The eyes flicked to the alarm clock set beside the man's bed, the bright green numbers read three o' seven in the morning. The light from the screen showed onto his form, illuminated the outline of blankets, pillows, and anything else close by. 

The man closed his eyes, decided it would be best to get some more sleep. He didn't get to often due to going on missions and ever since China, he'd felt obligated to do so. He let out a long, silent sigh as he tried to get a little more comfortable, the warmth from the blankets wrapped around his middle and the coolness against his arm and head felt good. The sound of a light rain filled his ears, as well as a far off, deep growl of thunder, gave him the hint that a storm would be approaching soon.

Chris was almost lulled to sleep, felt his consciousness start to drift away when he heard it. The sound of a soft creak of wood downstairs. His eyes flew open again and he quickly pushed himself up from his lying position. They narrowed as he held his breath and stayed completely still, his ears strained to catch the same sound or something similar. For a while, it seemed like all he could hear was the quickened beats of his heart, the rain lightly hitting against his bedroom window, and a few, soft booms of thunder as the storm slowly approached his residence. 

...

_ Tha-Thump _ .

_ Tha-Thump _ .

_ Tha-Thump _ .

_ Tha-Thump _ .

...

Chris blinked when the sound of footsteps echoed from downstairs and he sprung out of bed as quickly and quietly as he could. Keeping his eyes on the door, he opened the top drawer on his bedside table and pulled out his gun. Quickly checking to see how many rounds it had, Chris turned the safety off and hurriedly walked towards the bedroom door. 

His mind kept trying to figure out who might have come into his home so late at night. Claire was the only one who had the spare key to his house and she was working in another state, so it must have been an intruder. He opened the door slowly before he peeked past the door frame and then he stepped out into the hallway. He aimed his gun ahead of him, his brows furrowed slightly as he crept down the hallway. Before he could reach the staircase, a flash of lightning lit up the small area and everything within it. 

The floor felt cold against his bare feet and the lack of warmth from before brought goosebumps to the man's skin. As he walked down the stairs, Chris aimed his weapon towards his right, had it pointed over the railing, in case someone walked by or underneath him. He quickly stepped out from behind the staircase's wooden rail and off of the step, let out a silent breath as he did so, and he began to search the rest of his house. He kept his back towards the wall and side-stepped towards his front door. He glanced from the main hallway towards the doorknob as he checked it. It was still locked and secured. That wasn't how the intruder got in... 

_ So where'd they get in from? I didn't hear any windows break... _

He began to move down the hallway, his brain fully awake, and another flash of lightning lit up the hallway and kitchen. Chris immediately turned to his left and entered the kitchen. There was only one way in and one way out for that room and it was completely empty. He stopped to glance over at a picture of him and Claire posing with bunny ears over each other's heads that was stuck onto his fridge and then he passed by the coffee machine. It was still half full.

He exited the kitchen and made his way down the end of the hallway and into the living room. It was the largest room in the house, serving as both dining and lounge areas. There was a large, brown couch to his right, on one side was a tall light, and in front of it, against the wall, was the flat screen television. To the right of the couch was another large, dark blue lounge chair that had a recliner. When he didn't see anyone there, he turned around to check the dining room area. 

It was empty aside from the rectangular, wood table with comfy wood chairs around it. He stopped short when his foot stepped in something cold and wet and he looked down to find the faint outline of a puddle. He followed the trail of water back down the hallway and he found the spare bedroom's door was slightly open. Chris's eyes narrowed as he gripped the doorknob and he cautiously opened it. The door only let out a short-lived creak and the man slammed it open the rest of the way. His gun aimed in different directions right after he entered, however, there was nobody there. 

He walked around the bed, which was in the middle of the room, and the only other evidence that someone had come in was the window that had been left open. Rain poured inside and began to leave a pool of water on the floor. He lowered his weapon with a sigh and guessed that the intruder must have already left. Chris placed his gun down on the bed, walked to the window, and shut it so the rain would stop getting inside the room. Just as he felt something in his gut warn him to grab his gun, an all too familiar voice spoke up from behind him. 

"You should never lower your guard, Christopher. I thought you knew better than to do something so foolish."

A clap of thunder and another bright light filled the room as Chris spun on his heel, his eyes widened some in shock. Once he had turned fully, he was met by the barrel of his gun aimed at his face. He stood up a little straighter, his eyes glared daggers at a pair of glowing, red orbs that stared back at him. 

Another flash of lightning showed him the full front appearance of the assailant and the brunette felt his heart stop a few moments. The man was supposed to be dead, for good. He had been there, seen it happen. Hell, he'd been the one to kill him and yet there he stood.

"...Wesker."

Although Chris couldn't see it, the enemy simply smirked in response and he backed away towards the doorway to turn on the lamp that was set onto the dresser. Chris hadn't been able to get a good look at the other man before, but now that there was some more light, he could see him a little more clearly. Wesker hadn't changed much, his blonde hair had strands of silver in them, a blonde and silver colored stubble coated his jawline, chin, and a bit above his lip. 

His skin was paler than it had been when Chris had last seen him and there were hints of scarring on the places where Uroboros had infected him all those years ago. He wore an attire in black, except it was a buttoned up shirt with a leather coat that covered it, dress pants, dress shoes, and leather gloves. He had no sunglasses on and his eyes shone brightly within the room, though not as much as they had when it had been dark moments prior.

"How are you still alive?" Chris demanded, his tone low.

Wesker kept his aim on the brunette as he took a few steps closer to the other man and he responded, "This really shouldn't be much of a surprise to you, but if you must know... I crawled my way from the depths of annihilation with the help of my sister."

"Sister?"

"Indeed. Not even I was aware of her existence. I had believed that I was the sole survivor of the Wesker Children, but it appears that was not the case," he spoke as he took a quick glance around the room and he didn't appear to be happy. "She pulled my corpse from the volcano, took me to her secret facility on some island, and brought me back to life. Of course, it was accidental. Believing that I would help her understand the Uroboros virus, she had used me as a mere test subject."

It seemed like he wasn't very amused to not be the only Wesker around. Chris remembered reading something about the Wesker Children project and it had failed according to Spencer. To Chris, though, he thought it succeeded a little too well and Wesker was proof. It was a pain in the ass to have to deal with the madman over and over and Chris had enough of it. He thought for sure that he and Sheva had completely destroyed the man back in Africa, but there he stood, healthy as a damn horse.

"Seems like you aren't really happy about your sister being alive," Chris stated as he tried to spot any possible weapon to use against Wesker. "How's it feel being used like you used those people in Africa? It's not as fun as you think."

The other man scoffed and replied, "They were only test subjects. I needed them to understand how to use and manipulate Uroboros. As for my sister... She had proven her worth to me by helping me recover my health. If it had not been for her, I may have surely perished. Thanks to your dear, little sister and Burton, she met with her unfortunate demise. I suppose I will need to return the favor to her at some point."

Wesker had turned his head to look down to the floor and during that short distraction, Chris launched himself forward. He grabbed one of Wesker's shoulders and used his free hand to wrench the gun from the older man's hand. Once he had the weapon, he took a quick step backwards to aim. However, Wesker was quicker and he grabbed both of Chris's hands and slammed his other palm upwards against Chris's jaw. 

The man let out a groan of pain, but regained his balance only to be punched in the face, close to his nose. He was harshly tackled to the floor and the hand holding the gun was slammed against the ground two times before the weapon was released. The two men grunted a bit as the man on top forced the other to stay still, his gloved hand gripped around the younger man's throat tightly, and somehow, through the blurriness and pain, Chris was able to break free from the vice-like hold. 

The B.S.A.A. agent threw his fist towards his enemy and landed a blow to Wesker's face and as the blonde stumbled backwards, Chris realized something. 

Wesker wasn't as quick as he had been. 

Just as the ex-S.T.A.R.S. captain gripped his jaw, Chris spoke up, "Looks like you've gotten slower. Is the old age finally catching up to you?"

Obviously not at all amused, Wesker growled under his breath as he readied to make the man endure another powerful attack.

Chris glanced towards the discarded gun and when Wesker went after him, Chris lunged for the weapon on the wood floor. A grunt came from his lips as he grabbed the handgun, rolled onto his knees, and spun around to aim the gun towards the older male. Wesker had just finished smashing his fist through the flooring and the wood planks had a softball sized hole in them. As he slowly stood from his knelt position, Wesker's red orbs focused completely on the man who had ruined his plans since the beginning. 

The two were breathing heavily and Wesker straightened his back out and glared daggers at Chris as he snarled, "You've always been a thorn in my side, Chris. I still do not understand how you've survived for so long, being as weak and worthless as you are."

"I'm not the weak one, Wesker. You are," the older male's jaw clenched at the mere thought of being called weak, "You're the one who has to use some enhanced drug to make you have powers." Chris stood from his crouched position, the gun still aimed at Wesker, "And unlike me, you don't have anyone to help you. You are nothing but a selfish, power-hungry bastard and people like you always lose."

Wesker smirked, but the hatred still burned brightly in his eyes. "I don't need anyone else. It is better to work alone than to have others betray you and I learned that a long time ago." He took a step towards Chris as he added, "You, on the other hand, have all sorts of weaknesses. You let your emotions get the better of you and you attempt to drown those silly sorrows of yours with too many drinks."

"What-?"

"I've been keeping an eye on you all of these years, Chris. I don't understand why you are made captain of the B.S.A.A. when you can't even keep your men alive," Wesker mocked him and with every word, the brunette was shaking with more anger. "You couldn't even save that one young man… Nivans was his name, yes?"

Chris whispered out, "Shut up..."

"Yes, I do believe it was Piers Nivans. He was a good soldier. What a pity he wasted his life on you."

"Don't bring him into this, god dammit..!" The brunette hissed out as he took a small step towards Wesker and he felt his heart grip with a familiar, unwanted pain.

"Had I wanted to, when I was captain of S.T.A.R.S., I would have been able to keep all of the members alive, but you couldn't--"

"Then why didn't you?!"

Wesker fell silent.

"Why the fuck did you kill our comrades back then?! You spent time with us every fucking day, trained with us every fucking day, and we all trusted you! I trusted you and I looked up to you!" Chris's tone became soft and the rims of his eyes began to water. "...I looked up to you. Anytime I would see you, I'd always think of how I wanted to be a great captain like you..." He blinked as his eyes locked with his and Chris shook his head slowly as he snarled the edge of his nose and lips, "...But you had to kill them all because you wanted get some stupid fucking virus to make yourself better than the rest of us. So, was it worth it, Wesker? Was killing our family worth getting what you selfishly wanted, huh?"

Wesker remained silent throughout Chris's whole exclamation and his face was completely devoid of emotion. 

"Well?!" Chris demanded as he felt his anger rise again, "Was it fucking worth getting all that power and--?!"

Before he could even blink, Chris felt a harsh pain against his chest as he was sent flying backwards a few feet and his back hit against the wall. The lamp was knocked off of the dresser, the plug had been removed from the outlet on the wall, and it left the room dark again. His cry of pain was cut off as his throat was caught by Wesker's gloved hand. Chris let out a strangled groan as he began to fire rounds at the bastard, but the gun was ripped from his hand and thrown backwards behind Wesker. The two stared at each other and Chris tried to get out of the man's grip, but it was for naught. He was left gasping for air and Wesker's grip tightened around Chris's throat.

"It was worth it. I was close to becoming a god and you just had to get in the way and foil my plans again. I could have had the world and all of its inhabitants in the palm of my hand had it not been for you."

It seemed like an eternity passed by when dark blue, muddy orbs danced with firey, bright red ones.

Neither man broke the silence for a while, their eyes seemed to communicate everything they had felt in the past. 

Chris breathed in through his nose when he broke the thick silence, "What are you waiting for? Do it already, you piece of shi-"

His sentence was cut off when a pair of lips suddenly pressed against his own. Chris's eyes widened in a shocked form of horror and his face turned pale. The world seemed to stop around them, the sound of the thunder storm faded for a few seconds before Wesker broke the kiss. 

"Wesker...What the fuck--?"

"You are so pathetic, Redfield," Wesker whispered, his red eyes showing a mixture of emotions that Chris didn't want to see. "Ever since the mansion incident, I've wanted nothing more than to kill you. However, ever since I first laid my eyes on you back in Raccoon City…" He trailed off. "Everytime I met with you afterwards, an unwanted feeling kept trying to replace my undying hatred for you. I pushed it aside, decided that a being like me did not need to feel such measly, childish emotions..." His face got uncomfortably close towards Chris's as he continued, "Yet, here we are. I suppose it is fate that we should always have to meet in such a way, to kill one another. Though I think... I'm finished with pushing these human emotions away..."

Chris's eyes stayed wide, his brown brows knit together, and his mouth was slightly agape.

Wesker had closed what little space between them again, though the second time, he deepened the kiss. The kiss was powerful and much too passionate and Chris tried to push the older man away. It was like Wesker had just regained all the power he'd lost just by having one goal in mind and Chris didn't want to let him have it. His mind spun with all sorts of questions and possible reasons why what was happening was happening. Chris managed to push his face away from Wesker's and he grunted out, "Wesker, you've really lost your mind...!" 

"Perhaps I have, but I don't care," the older male replied and he came back in for another kiss. The agent tried to shove him off, but Wesker pressed his free hand against his chest and shoved him backwards. The sudden force from his hand pushed Chris against the wall and he was trapped. Then Wesker's lips were devouring Chris's for a third time.

Everything about what they were doing felt so wrong, felt like it wasn't allowed. 

They were enemies! Enemies don't kiss each other! 

Chris was so confused and yet... He felt something old buried inside him suddenly come back to life. He never wanted to admit it, but...

Wesker was right. 

Every time they met there had been some sort of unknown, irregular tension that always formed between them. They both ignored it and did not want to have it, replaced it with their hatred for one another. 

Wesker finally broke the kiss to let them catch their breath and Chris's eyes locked with his. 

Another few moments of tense silence filled the room.

"Wesker," Chris breathed out, "You're fucking disgusting."

With that, Chris had lifted one of his hands to grab the back of Wesker's head and he pulled him in for another, rough kiss. The sudden movement seemed to surprise the blonde, but his lips met Chris's nonetheless. The end of Wesker's lips curved upwards in a smirk and the hand that was around Chris's throat lessened its tight grip.

It slid upwards to lightly hold onto the younger male's jaw. As Wesker pressed his body against him, Chris's hand had moved up to tangle his fingers in the other man's wet hair and he tilted his head a bit to give Wesker better access to his mouth.

Wesker's smirk grew with how Chris was responding to him and his teeth grazed over Chris's lower lip and gave it a harsh bite, which caused the brunette to let out a soft pained noise. Chris reacted with a fierce tug at his hair and he bit Wesker's lip just as hard, if not harder, and that made a deep, amused chuckle arise from Wesker's throat. 

Of course he was going to fight back, even in a situation such as this. 

Releasing Chris's jaw, Wesker had taken hold of his waist with both hands and the leather fabric on his thumbs grazed against Chris's skin, made his stomach tug inwards a bit.

Chris felt disgusting for having feelings for his life long enemy. 

He knew he shouldn't have feelings for him.

He knew it was wrong.

At that moment, he just didn't care.

At that moment, they were not enemies.

At that moment, they were something else entirely.

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo!
> 
> Thanks so much for taking the time to read this. I hope you enjoyed having some Chrisker content. 
> 
> Have a nice day/evening!
> 
> ♡ Moka


End file.
